Never Let You Fall
by firstadream
Summary: When Brennan is faced with unbearable grief, she turns to the only person who is able to comfort her. B/B fluff!


**OMG. More fluff? No way! Ya way! Pretty awesome, right?**

Booth heard the knock on his door and swung it open, expecting to see Hannah, but finding Brennan instead. He tried not to overanalyze the rush of happiness that coursed through him when he saw her face. "Hey, Bones," he said, furrowing his brow slightly. "You okay?"

She opened her mouth as if to answer and then closed it again. She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Bones?" he murmured, moving closer to her. He rested his hand on her shoulder and felt her body tremble at the slight touch. "Bones, what is it?"

She shook her head slightly, curling in on herself. He realized that she was fighting with every fiber of her being not to fall apart on his doorstep. "Hey, Bones, c'mere," he murmured. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her body into his. She tensed at first, her palms pressed to his chest as if she would push him away, but a moment later she relaxed against him. He felt a deep shudder run through her as the walls came undone, crumbling to the ground.

She pressed her face into his chest, her fingers curling around his shirt. He could feel her tears seeping through the fabric, warm and wet against his skin. He gathered her closer, holding her up as she shook against him, the sadness slowly seeping out of her.

As the tears continued to stream down her face, she leaned more heavily against his body. She felt like she couldn't get close enough to him. She wanted to curl inside him and fall asleep. She didn't want to be in her own skin anymore. "Booth," she breathed, half moaning, half sobbing.

"Hey, you're okay, you're okay," he whispered softly, pressing his lips to her hair. "I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. "I'm here now, okay? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded into his shirt and squeezed her eyes shut, letting the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beating of his heart, lull the tears away. "Thank you," she choked out, grateful that he wasn't questioning her sudden presence, sad and broken, in his apartment.

She didn't know how long they stood there. Time passed in the strangest way for her as she stood there in his arms. All she knew was that he didn't leave and that being in his arms felt good and that she didn't even mind the occasional pressure of his lips against her forehead. At some point, the tears stopped, but still he didn't move away. "I'm so tired, Booth," she admitted, feeling her eyes droop, the tug of undeniable exhaustion.

"I know," he murmured.

He moved away for a moment, but her momentary unease was once again replaced by a sleepy peacefulness when a second later he returned and scooped her into his arms. She turned her face into his chest as he carried her, cradled like a child, into his bedroom and gently set her down on the bed. She curled on her side, turning her face into a pillow that smelled like him, as he pulled the comforter up over her weary body. "Don't leave," she mumbled, already half-asleep.

"I won't," he promised. "I just need to make a call."

He walked out of the room and she found that without his comforting presence, she was unable to fall completely asleep. She drifted in and out of awareness, torn between exhaustion and grief. His voice drifted in from the other room. He sounded weary and a little annoyed. She heard him say "Hannah" a couple of times, his tone placating, and she realized with a twinge of guilt that she had infringed on his plans with her. She meant to say something about this when he returned, but by the time he reentered the room and eased himself onto the bed behind her, she was so grateful that she the words slipped from her mind.

He draped his arm around her waist, his hand warm and comforting against her stomach, and pulled her body back against his. "Go to sleep, Bones," he murmured into her ear. "I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

She nodded, already drifting away, and pressed back against him, letting out a long breath before finally, mercifully succumbing to the darkness.

—BB—

When Brennan woke up the next morning, he was no longer beside her. She could hear him just outside the door, talking on the phone. "Hannah, look, I'm sorry, but she needed me. What am I supposed to do? She's my partner." He fell silent for a moment. She could hear him shifting restlessly, sense his frustration even through the wall. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his tone verging on exasperated as he rejoined the conversation. "Well, I don't know what to tell you." He was quiet again for a second and then: "Yeah, I guess you're right. Fine. I'll see you then. Bye." She heard the click of his phone as he snapped it shut, the curse mumbled under his breath, the long sigh. And then he was there, standing in the doorway.

When he lifted his gaze and found her looking at him, he paused, slightly startled. "Bones," he said. "You're awake." She nodded. "I'm sorry I wasn't here…I was just…I had to…"

"I'm sorry I ruined your plans with Hannah," she said, interrupting his stuttering apologies.

"What? No. Don't worry about that," he said hastily, waving it off with a flick of his wrist.

"You should've said something," she said, feeling suddenly awkward, lying there in his bed. "I didn't mean to mess up your whole evening."

"Bones," he said, his tone suddenly serious, stern almost. "Don't apologize. There was nowhere I'd rather be last night than here with you."

"Really?" she said, her voice soft.

He nodded and walked over to the bed, easing himself down beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close and she let him. For once she didn't question the easy intimacy that flowed between them, the connection that she'd always fought against for the simple reason that it terrified her. But she was in a strange mood. She wasn't so scared anymore. "Am I more important than Hannah?" she asked as she pressed against him, marveling at how good it felt to be tucked against him like this, to feel every line, every dip and bend of his body.

He sighed and kissed her forehead, his lips hovering along her hairline for a long time. His anxiety was there in the way he held her a little too tightly, his body tense against hers. She could feel him struggling and she felt the exact moment when he gave in. "You are, Bones," he said, his voice tight. "You're the most important person in my life."

She swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him how important he was to her. She wanted to tell him that she'd come to him last night because she'd known he was the only person in the world that could've kept her from falling apart. "My dad's dead," she whispered.

He tilted his face down to hers. "What?"

"He's dead," she said again and her voice faltered this time, quavering slightly around the words.

"Bones," he breathed. "God, babe, I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her against his body. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Booth," she whispered.

"I know, but it's what people say, Bones, okay? I'm sorry that your dad died. I'm sorry that you're sad. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you from this."

"You can't protect me from everything, Booth," she pointed out, clinging to logic like it was her only lifeline.

"I can try," he said.

She tilted her head up to his. "You were the only one I wanted to see."

He smiled softly at her admission. Lifted a hand and traced the curve of her cheek with his finger. "I'm always here, Bones." His gaze was earnest. "I'll never let you fall."

She smiled, warmed by his words, and then, all at once, she remembered. She remembered picking up the phone and hearing Russ' voice, cracked and broken, reaching over hundreds of miles. She remembered hanging up and feeling numb and wanting Booth so badly that she could barely breathe. "He's gone, Booth," she breathed. "I'll never see him again. I'll never hear his voice again. I'll never…I'll never…" She trailed off, her breath catching in her throat. "God, how does that happen? How can he go from being my dad to being…remains?"

"Hey, Bones," he murmured, drawing her gaze back to his face. "He's not gone. Not completely. He's still there. In your heart, in your mind."

"No, Booth, he's gone," she insisted, her voice desperate. "He was gone the minute his heart stopped beating. He's not there anymore." It was what she had learned in college and grad school. It was what she saw everyday in the lab. It was all that she knew. She was a scientist. She couldn't change.

"No, Bones, he's not."

She lifted a teary gaze to his face. She shook her head. She couldn't do it. She couldn't see it. "How?" she asked.

He let out a long breath. "Close your eyes," he said softly. She gave a bewildered look, but complied. "Now think of Max," he told her gently. "Picture him in your mind. From those old Converses he used to wear to the skull and crossbones tie you gave him for Christmas last year. You got him in your head?" She nodded slightly. "Okay. Now picture his face. His smile, his wrinkles, the color of his hair. Think of his voice and his laugh. Think of how it felt when he rested his hand on your arm. Think of how it felt when he hugged you." As he spoke, she began to cry, the tears slipping silently from her eyes, but he didn't slow down. "Picture that song he used to play for you when you were little," he continued, his voice rough and comforting. "Think of that day when he came over for dinner and we all danced to Love Shack in your living room. Think of the science experiments he put together for Parker. Think of how proud he was when you got that super scientist award a couple years ago." He paused for a moment and pressed his lips to her tear-streaked cheek. "Can you see him, Bones?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I can see him," she said, nodding.

He smiled at her, his eyes warm and loving. "See, Bones? He's not gone. He's there for you whenever you need him."

"How is that possible?" she asked wonderingly.

He shrugged. "It just is."

"Your logic is flawed."

"Doesn't mean it's not true."

She was quiet for a minute. Her eyes fell away from his face and drifted shut again. She shook her head slightly, her hands smoothing across his chest. "I feel him, Booth. I can feel him around me." She opened her eyes. "It's not possible," she said, almost to herself, but her voice was hesitant and tainted with doubt.

He didn't answer, just watcher her, kept his gaze steady on her face. His eyes were dark and filled with conviction. She shifted closer to him, her hands sliding up around his neck. He pulled her tight against his broad chest. His hand drifted upwards, along the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist and higher. His palm rounded against her ribcage, his thumb brushing the edge of her breast. She gave a little whimper of desire and draped her leg across his hip, desperate, suddenly, for his body.

Her dad was dead. Her dad was gone, a ghost in her memory, but Booth, Booth was alive. He was alive and he was here and he was the only man she'd ever loved. "Booth," she pleaded. There was an ache deep inside her that only he could reach.

"Bones." Her name came out on a groan. He slipped his hand under her shirt and traced the smooth contours of her bare skin. "God, Bones."

Her arms were tight around his neck. She shifted against him restlessly. She couldn't get close enough. "I need…" She didn't know what she needed. She needed him.

"I know," he soothed, his voice low and gentle. The movements of his hands slowed slightly. He ran his fingers across her back. Pushed her back against the bed and bent his head over her stomach. Pressed his lips to the smooth expanse of skin. She brushed her fingers through his hair and felt something flare inside her. He lifted his head and moved back up her body until their faces were level.

"We can't, Bones," he murmured, brushing the bangs away from her forehead. "I've never cheated on a woman and I'm not going to start now, even though leaving this bed, leaving _you_, might be the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

She shook her head slightly and pressed a hand to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt in a loose fist. "You're leaving?" The thought of being alone was almost unbearable.

"I don't have to go now," he said easily, settling back on the bed beside her and pulling her into his arms. "I won't go until you're ready."

—BB—

They stayed in bed almost all day. Brennan lay there in his arms, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep. Sometimes she woke up crying, sometimes she forgot that he was dead, but always, when she opened her eyes, Booth was there, and he didn't let her go. Sometime the next evening, her grumbling stomach stirred her from sleep and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since the night before. She opened her eyes and focused them on his face. "I'm starving," she said softly.

He smiled. "Me too."

She followed him out to the kitchen and watched as he pulled eggs, bread and bacon from the fridge, tossing them on the counter. She immediately reached for the eggs, pulling four from the carton. "Scrambled or fried?" she asked.

"Scrambled," he said, as he pulled a couple of pieces of bacon from the packaging.

"I agree," she said with a nod.

She grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and, one at a time, carefully tapped the eggs against the rim, cracking them into the bowl. "You're very good at that," he commented.

"It doesn't take a genius level IQ to crack eggs, Booth." She turned and grinned at him. "Although, I guess it doesn't hurt."

He chuckled as he placed a pan on the stove and turned on the heat. She mirrored his actions, setting her pan beside his. He began to cook his bacon, while she whipped the eggs, adding a bit of water to make them fluffy. When she poured them over the heated pan, they sizzled and popped. She reached for a spatula and slowly ran it through the eggs, losing herself in the simplicity of the task, the predictability of it. Add heat and the eggs will cook. Too much heat and they will burn. These were things she could count on, reactions she could explain. There were so many things that confused her, so many things that could not be measured and catalogued. She took comfort in the things that could.

Beside her, Booth flipped his bacon and adjusted the heat beneath them. When he glanced over at her, he found her lost in thought, her gaze distant, her brow furrowed. Without thinking, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She didn't pull away from him, didn't balk at the intimacy of his stance, only leaned back against his chest, letting him support her as she stirred the eggs. "I gotta confess something, Bones," he murmured, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"What's that?" she asked softly.

"I want to kiss you."

She smiled and closed her eyes, resting her hand against the arm that circled her waist. "So kiss me."

He was quiet for a while. She could feel his chest expanding and relaxing as he breathed. "I have to talk to Hannah."

She sighed and turned in his arms. "Then go," she murmured, smoothing her hands across his chest.

He studied her face carefully. "You sure?" She nodded. "What about breakfast?"

"We can eat when you get back."

He smiled and drew her close. She moved into him and let out a long breath. Felt his arms wind around her waist, his hands settling against her back. "Let's eat in bed," he whispered into her ear, his voice suddenly husky and deeper somehow.

She took a step back. "Deal."

—BB—

Booth had only been gone five minutes when Brennan heard a knock at the door. Thinking he'd forgotten his keys or wallet, she stood from the couch and opened the door. But instead of finding her partner on the other side, she found Angela. "Booth called me," Angela explained.

Brennan nodded and stepped aside so her friend could move past her into the living room. Brennan closed the door and turned around and was almost immediately accosted by Angela. "Oh, sweetie," she murmured, hugging her friend close. "I'm so, so sorry."

Remembering what Booth had explained to her, Brennan resisted the urge to point out that it wasn't her fault. "Thanks, Ange," she said instead.

Angela pulled away and studied her friend's face, as if checking it for any damage. "You're okay?" she prompted. "I mean, as okay as you can be?"

Brennan nodded. "Yes. I think I'm going to be fine."

Angela smiled, resisting the urge to ask exactly what had happened in this apartment, in _that _bedroom in the last twenty-four hours. "Look, sweetie, I want to be really supportive and everything, and I am, but this apartment smells like bacon and I have been having some _major _cured meat cravings since I got pregnant, so I'm just going to have to excuse myself for a sec."

Brennan watched, utterly bemused, as Angela disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing moments later holding a piece of bacon. "That's Booth's bacon," she said, a little indignant.

"He can make more," Angela said carelessly, finishing off her snack in about two bites. "Okay," she sighed, licking her fingers. "Now I can focus." She walked over and took Brennan's hand, leading her over to the couch. "Tell me everything."

Brennan did, obediently answering all of Angela's questions and by the end of the tale, her friend was practically squealing with delight. "Sweetie, I'm so proud of you!"

Brennan frowned. "But I didn't do anything."

"You were sad and you wanted Booth and for once you didn't fight it. You went to him and asked to be held. That's huge, Bren."

"It wasn't that I wanted him, Ange," Brennan said, shaking her head slightly. "I've wanted him before, but this was different. I just…I couldn't…" She sighed and let her gaze drift to the window that was slowly dimming as the sun went down. "I needed him," she murmured.

Angela smiled, feeling tears in her eyes. She reached out and rested her hand on her friend's arm, squeezing gently. "And that's okay. It's okay to need him sometimes."

Brennan nodded distractedly, her face still turned away. "I feel so strange," she admitted softly. "I'm not scared anymore, Ange. How does that happen? Yesterday, I was terrified of the prospect of a relationship with Booth and today I'm lying in his bed, wrapped up in his arms, wishing he would kiss me."

"Grief tends to do that, sweetie," Angela said softly. "It makes us reevaluate our lives and see what's really important."

"Booth is important," Brennan said steadily. "He's important to me." She looked at her friend. Her eyes were weary and serene and somehow softer than before. "How did I not see that before?"

"I think you saw it, but you just couldn't face it."

"I've missed so much," she said, a little forlornly.

"There's still time," Angela assured her. "You two have all the time in the world." She grinned. "Just don't waste it, okay?"

Brennan smiled, giving a definitive nod. "I won't."

—BB—

When Brennan heard him fumbling with his keys outside, she stood from her spot on the couch and crossed over to the door. As soon as the door swung open, she walked over to him and he immediately wrapped her in his arms, letting out a sigh into her hair. "Bones," he breathed, sounding tired and relieved.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Babe," he said, chuckling, "you're dad just died. I should be asking you that question."

She leaned back slightly, just enough so that she could see his face and narrowed her eyes slightly, her head tilted up towards his. "What?" he asked.

"You called me 'babe'," she said.

"Is that okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," she said, smiling softly. "I think it is."

"Good," he said, feeling inordinately pleased. Yesterday, she was Bones. His partner. His gorgeous, breathtakingly kind, brilliant partner who he shared the occasional guy hug with if he was lucky. Now she was Bones. His partner. His gorgeous, breathtakingly kind, brilliant partner who he could call "babe" and kiss whenever he liked. "Hey, Bones?" he breathed, suddenly aware in a way he hadn't been a second before of the feel of her body against his.

"Yes?" she whispered, sensing the shift in his mood.

"Can I kiss you now?"

"I'd like that very much."

"Good."

He drew her closer, his head bowing towards hers, so close that her face blurred, the pink of her lips melding with the cream of her skin and the blue of her eyes. He thought of that first kiss, the taste of tequila on her tongue, the promise of _somewhere. _He thought of kissing her beneath the mistletoe, her fingers curled around the lapels of his coat, her breath sweet minty. He thought of that last kiss, over a year ago now, that fleeting moment when she gave into him, her lips softening beneath his, before she wrenched them away, her palms pressed against his chest, her tortured, confused, terrified _no._

Now, as he pressed his lips to hers, he could feel those memories stirring in him. As he parted her lips, tasted her taste, felt her melt against him, her mouth supple and soft beneath his, he felt as if they had finally reached the _somewhere _that he'd promised her all those years ago.

She leaned into him, her hands slipping inside his jacket and around his waist. Tilted her head to the side. Slanted her mouth over his again and again. He groaned a very quiet groan and slipped his hands under the hem of the oversized collared shirt she was wearing, the shirt she'd stolen from his bottom drawer a couple hours ago. "I like this shirt on you," he mumbled into her lips.

She smiled, giving a little hum of agreement that quickly faded into a sigh as he moved his hands higher, over her waist and stomach. When he reached her breasts, his fingers brushing along the lacy cups of her bra almost shyly, she bowed her head away from his lips and arched into him. "Bedroom?" he murmured, already bending down to sweep her into his arms.

"Please," was her breathless answer.

He grinned down at her flushed face and carried her to his bed, lowering her onto the rumpled sheets. He pulled off his t-shirt and stepped out of his jeans, before lying down beside her. She turned into his body and found his lips again, kissing him softly. "Thank you, Booth," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For never letting me fall."

He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. She sighed, feeling a deep peace settle inside her, just because he was here and he loved her and they were alive with all the time in the world left to go.

**Yay! I love happy endings. Especially when Booth and Brennan end up in bed together. Teehee. I hope ya'll liked it. Please REVIEW! **


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